As I look around me, I see white rain, insistent upon clinging to my limbs. I did not invite it to perch here, nor would I even consider it. It causes my world to turn gray, and I rather prefer a bit of color. Yet, year after year, it arrives in flocks to roost. You would think it could at least ask permission first. No, this annoyance is much like an entitled little demon, having no regard for the space around it. It falls where it may, and stays where it is unwelcome.
I suppose I shouldn’t complain all that much. Eventually, it tires and falls off of me, landing on the ground and nourishing the meadows. Oh, but my poor friend, Rocky. This madness covers him to the point where, he looks like some sort of snow creature. A bit daunting, if you ask me.
Alas, I shall wait until the first of spring, when the grass will be green again, and Rocky will return to his hardened, old self. Then, at last, I can stretch my limbs and bask in the coming of the sun.
Winter, drab and gray
Steals the color from my eyes
But for a moment
Glistening, as morning breaks
With pristine beauty, beguiles